


And I'll Be Here (Always)

by LostSaturn



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Divergence, Fluff and Humor, Hurt Peter Parker, Movie Night, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Peter is a Little Shit, Protective Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2020-03-14 16:18:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18951655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostSaturn/pseuds/LostSaturn
Summary: When Peter encounters an amulet that magnifies his powers, he begins to stick to everything - notebooks, pencils, chairs - and even a certain exasperated billionaire.If anything, Tony’s just glad he’s there to keep Peter out of trouble, even if it means being (literally) glued to the kid for 24 hours.And, deep down - although he’d never admit it - Tony knows he doesn’t quite mind the company.





	1. Heart Attacks

“On your left!”

Tony lunged to the side, grateful for Peter’s hasty warning as a blue energy blast streaked through the spot he’d been standing in only moments before, detonating a hole in some quiet nearby cafe. _Oops._ He’d send people to help with reconstruction later, after this whole mess was dealt with.

The kid crawled onto the wall beside him, the suit’s eyes twitching as he cocked his head towards their enemy.

“So….what now?”

If he was being honest, Tony had no idea. The man twenty feet in front of them, a lean figure with a keen smirk and intelligent, beady eyes who called himself Mordo, wielded something Tony had hated from the moment he’d learned of its existence - magic. It was weird, and it was unnatural - nothing could explain it, not even science, which Tony had _thought_ he could rely on for anything, and it physically pained him to know that even he couldn’t think up an explanation for the anomaly. Magic was, to say the least, unsettling.

And it didn’t help that he associated it with a certain snarky, cape-wearing magician as well, one who had dragged him and Peter into this fight, muttered something about "stalling for time," and then promptly vanished. Where was the man when Tony needed him?

“Daydreaming, Stark?” Blue swirls sparked from Mordo, his thin lips curling up at the sides like a crevice carved through skin. Tony rolled his eyes, although he knew the other man couldn’t see it through the suit. But, given the situation, he was sure his annoyance could be felt from miles away.

“I feel a monologue coming on,” Peter muttered from behind him.

Sure enough, Mordo was already opening his mouth to spew more about his (probably depressing) backstory and (probably understandable) grudge with Strange, but Tony couldn't help but interrupt him with a snort of laughter at Peter's quiet prediction.

“You laugh now, Stark,” Mordo said, lifting an amulet from beneath his shirt, “but you’ll regret daring to challenge me at my full power.”

“What, are you gonna hypnotize us with that necklace? Trust me, dude, we can take you.” Peter crossed his arms defiantly.

Mordo leveled his gaze at the kid, eyes narrowing. “You in particular, Spider - I’m growing quite tired of you.”

Tony didn’t realize the amulet was glowing until it was too late.

“Kid, watch out!”

A blast of white light seared Tony’s vision. Distantly, he could hear Peter cry out - the sound of a body crashing through the wall sent his heart hammering. He had to find the kid - he had one job, and that was to protect his _kid_ \- shit, what the hell was happening?

Tony forced his eyes open, lurching away from the path of another white-hot flash of power. Mordo was smirking down at him, arms wrested in throngs of pulsing white energy, the glow of the amulet around his neck giving him an almost sickly, otherworldly appearance. He whirled around, and there was a hole in the wall behind him where Peter must’ve crashed through.

The kid hadn’t gotten back up. _The kid hadn’t gotten back up._

“What the hell did you do?” He gaped. His repulsors wound up to launch at Mordo, although he knew it wouldn’t make a difference. Apparently, Tony had wildly underestimated the villain’s power.

“D’you like it?” Mordo gestured slyly to his amulet. “It’s supposed to multiply the powers of its user to an astounding magnitude. Unluckily for you, Strange didn’t discover it had gone missing from his hovel for weeks. It took me months of training to strengthen my magic enough to infiltrate his security measures - really, though, I'm surprised it took me more than a day, considering how downhill the establishment has gone since I left. I put _years_ of hard work -  _years -_ into mastering the mystic arts, and he just comes and takes it all away."

The man wrinkled his nose distastefully, as if he had been talking about expired lettuce instead of, well, all-powerful ancient relics. "You know, after all that, I think I deserve to see what it can really make me do. Let's take this to the next level, shall we?”

The amulet flashed brighter, pulsing waves of burning white light towards Tony. Even beneath his suit, he could feel its heat, and a bead of sweat dripped down his nose as he launched himself forward to attack.

Pain ripped through his body almost immediately. Tony let out a scream, panting when he saw the light gripping his abdomen like a tentacle, squeezing the sides of his armor so hard the metal collapsed in on itself. The heat was unbearable, a burning, agonizing pain spreading through his body, and Tony was gonna die - this was it - he clenched his fists and bit back a cry - where the hell was Peter - _god_ , where the hell was  _Strange_ -

 _“Shit!”_ The magician cried out. A familiar white string streaked across Tony's field of vision.

The light receded, dropping him with a hard _thump_ onto the wet concrete of the alley. His vision was blurry - he couldn’t _see -_

Crap, and Peter was swinging straight for Mordo - Tony could see them out of the corner of his eye; the two wrestled desperately, white bursts of power shooting out towards the gray sky.

Groaning, he slowly forced himself up, ignoring the pain that seared straight through his stomach from where the light had hit him. Peter was reeling from a hard blow, his suit ripped at the sides, but he launched himself once again at Mordo, and Tony realized the kid was trying to keep his enemy from reaching a small, white bundle on the floor -

The amulet. Tony paused, staring at the layers of webbing that strapped it firmly to the concrete. So that’s what had saved him.

“Don’t let him get the amulet.” Strange was suddenly beside him with a pair of handcuffs in hand. Deep carvings had been etched into the metal, and Tony surmised that they were designed to suppress Mordo’s powers.

Peter seemed to have the right idea. With a grunt, Tony flew into the fight, shoving Mordo a few feet back as the kid raced clumsily for the webbed necklace.

“NO!” Mordo was shoving himself back up and raising his hands to attack, but without the amulet magnifying his power, his magic was nothing but a few sparks in the air. Tony silenced him with a hard punch to the jaw, and Strange leapt in, clamping the handcuffs around his wrists.

It was over. Thank god.

“You shouldn’t have taken it,” Strange sighed, clasping Mordo on the shoulder. “You knew better.”

“And _you_ ,” Mordo spat, gazing up at Strange from where he struggled on the ground, “need better security.”

“Noted.” Strange pulled him up, opening a portal in the air to pull the man into wizard jail, or wherever Tony guessed they put evil, amulet-stealing magicians. “Get your kid, Stark. I’ll bring you two to the tower after I drop this one off.”

And then he stepped through the portal, disappearing in a flash without so much as a _thank you_. If Tony had to describe Strange in one word, it would probably be "abrupt." Or maybe "ungrateful." Or, his personal favorite - "bitch."

“Right. Peter?” Tony turned to find the kid hastily digging the amulet out of what looked like a crusting anthill of webbing. “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve almost got it -” Peter groaned at a rip in the palm of his glove and gestured to Tony. “We’re gonna need to patch this up again.”

“Just crash with me tonight and we can work on it. I’ll call your aunt.”

“I would, but….oh, got it!” Peter pulled off the last strands of web and closed his fist around the amulet.

Immediately, it started to pulse a bright, searing white.

“Um….is that….supposed to happen?”

“Peter, get the hell away from that -”

“ _Shit!”_ The white strapped itself onto Peter, engulfing him almost completely, and Tony caught a last glimpse at the kid’s widened eyes just before-

Before the screaming started.

“PETER!”

The kid’s body doubled over in agony, and he dropped the amulet. Tony rushed forward, avoiding the necklace as it clattered onto the ground.

“What the hell?” Strange appeared suddenly, his eyes wide as he took in the scene. The kid was collapsed on the floor, writhing uncontrollably, his screams cutting straight through Tony’s chest as he pulled Peter’s head into his lap.

“Peter? Kid, talk to me - what the hell is going on, Strange?”

“Did his bare skin touch the amulet?”

Tony remembered the rip in Peter’s glove just as he had grabbed that _damned_ necklace. “Y-yeah...yeah, he did.”

“ _Goddamnit.”_ Strange opened another portal, and Tony caught a glimpse of the tower’s medbay on the other side. “We need to get him outta here, come on.”

Without another word, Tony gathered the shaking body into his arms, letting the boy’s head rest against the crook of his elbow, his hand supporting Peter’s back. The seizure had stopped, but he still trembled, the occasional sob breaking through into Tony’s chest. The kid was so damn _small,_ and he looked so scared, and Tony could do nothing but murmur quiet apologies and reassurances, not even knowing if Peter could hear him.

What had that _bastard_ done to his kid?

It was magic again, and Tony had no idea how to fix it. Hell, he couldn’t even fight a magician, let alone undo whatever the necklace had hurt Peter with. The kid was gonna suffer, and there was nothing he could do.

There was only Strange, and Tony resented - no,  _loathed_ \- the idea of putting all his hopes onto the man who’d dragged them into the fight that hurt him in the first place. Peter should've been in the lab that day, patching up his suit and talking Tony's ear off and raiding their pantry, but the damned wizard had felt obligated to rip it all away, carting him into a fight that wasn't even his. Of course, of  _course_ Peter had gotten hurt. What had Tony been thinking, getting the kid into a brawl with the mystic arts? 

“I can feel you blaming me from all the way over here, Tony.” Strange raised a brow, and Tony realized he was farther away now, motioning to a cot in the corner of the room. “Put him down here, will you?”

Anger rose in Tony’s gut, but he shoved it down. Strange was an arrogant bastard, yeah, but fighting him wouldn’t help Peter. And, looking down at the sobbing, inconsolable kid, Tony knew he needed as much help as he could get.

“Hey, Peter - can you hear me?” Strange’s voice softened immediately as he lowered himself to Peter’s gaze, a tentative hand brushing the boy’s hair back. “It’s Strange. I’m just going to do a quick spell to heal you, okay? It’ll put you to sleep. I’m just gonna need you to be as still as possible. Can you do that for me?”

“I’m - I’m - “ Peter’s gaze flitted around the room, fresh tears trailing down his cheeks.

Tony knelt down beside him and grasped the kid’s hand. “I’m here, too, kid. Tony’s here. I need you to listen to Strange, okay?”

“Nngh…” Peter groaned, his body shaking with another tremor, but his eyes stayed locked on Tony’s. “O-okay….”

Tony met Strange’s gaze and nodded. The man raised his hands with a sigh and began the spell, orange light glowing softly from his palms. Slowly, Peter’s body relaxed, and the kid’s eyes slipped shut, his breaths evening out.

If Tony hadn’t just witnessed him screaming in agony, he would’ve said the boy looked peaceful.

“What _was_ that?” Tony hissed after he was sure the kid wasn’t conscious to hear it. “What just happened?”

“The amulet latches onto its users through direct contact,” Strange explained wearily, eyes flitting to the sleeping lump on the cot. “It takes years of training in the mystic arts to be able to withstand that amount of power, and Peter - well, I assume he doesn’t have magic, seeing as it seems to have caused major internal damage -” Tony’s eyes widened, and Strange shook his head. “The spell’s taken care of the worst of it, though. It’s a miracle he’s alive - the only reason Mordo was able to withstand it, even for such a short amount of time, was because he’d been training with me for years.”

Tony swallowed. “And you didn’t think it’d be important to tell us this _before_ you launched us into a fight with an experienced, all-powerful magician?”

“I was busy trying to find the cuffs, Tony, and I needed someone to stall and buy me some time. I figured….you were wearing suits, so you’d be fine. I didn’t think you’d even be able to take the amulet off of him, so it shouldn’t have been a problem.” Strange’s words were only met with a glare, and dark satisfaction roiled in Tony’s chest as guilt began to color the man’s eyes.

“The next time you almost get the kid _killed_ because of a mistake that _you_ made, I’ll murder you myself.” The threat wasn’t empty, and Strange knew it. “If I had lost him back there, you’d be dead ten times over by now.”

“He’ll be okay, Tony.” Strange sighed. “If anything, the amulet heightened his powers. The kid’s strength is going to be….insane for the next few days.”

“Shit, I forgot about that part.” Tony whistled. “He’s gonna be able to lift _buildings._ ”

“But everything about him is going to be intensified, Tony, and it might be draining for him.” Strange met his eyes. “Talk to Bruce about this, he knows the most about his powers and metabolism and whatnot. I’ve got to get back to dealing with Mordo, but….if anything changes with the kid, let me know.”

Tony didn’t miss the way Strange’s eyes softened when they flitted back to Peter, who was still passed out in the cot. The man was a dumbass, sure, but he really did care for Peter. In his own special, dumbass way.

“Let the bastard get a taste of how Peter felt, okay?” Tony’s voice was hard, and Strange nodded solemnly, already disappearing through his portal.

And then Tony was alone.

“FRIDAY?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Call Bruce. We’ve got a situation down here.”

 

* * *

 

“Well, it looks like Strange wasn’t playing around with that healing spell.” Bruce ruffled Peter’s hair lovingly, a small smile quirking at the corners of his lips as he watched over the sleeping kid.

“He’s gonna be okay, Tony. His vitals are holding steady, and whatever damage was left over is already being taken care of by his healing factor.”

“Thank god.” Tony slumped in a chair beside Peter’s cot, running a hand down his face. “And what about the amulet’s….side effects?”

“We won’t know how much it’ll affect Peter until he wakes up and tries out his powers. But my guess is that his metabolism is going to be boosted, so he’s going to be eating a lot more. Maybe keep him here until the effects wear off, since he might not be able to control his own strength.”

“Well, at least it’s summer, so he’s not missing any school.” Tony watched the kid closely, letting himself relax at the sight of his chest rising and falling, his mouth slightly open as he slept. “His aunt would’ve killed me if he missed another day.”

“She’s still gonna kill you for this,” Bruce pointed out. “You think she’ll let Peter stay over until it wears off?”

“Well, she’ll have to. Who knows what kind of trouble the kid will get into if we let him out with his full strength?”

“I’ll call Wanda over to make dinner, then. We haven’t had a movie night with everyone together for ages!”

Tony rolled his eyes. “We haven’t put everyone together in one room for a reason, Bruce. Remember what happens every time Thor gets drunk?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Bruce said, already putting a phone up to his ear.

 

* * *

 

After a long, agonizing phone call during which May yelled at him a total of six times, Tony was happy to proclaim that Peter would be staying the weekend. Bruce beamed.

The kid woke up about an hour later, looking blissfully confused. “Ugh….I feel like I just spent the last hour being tossed around in a dryer. Wha’ happened?”

“Well, what do you remember?”

“Um…." Peter squinted. “I w-was grabbing the amulet….and then there was just this, bright light? And then Strange was telling me he needed to put a spell on me or something.”

“Yeah, kid, I think it's safe to say you're grounded for the next few days. What’d I tell you about touching mysterious magical relics? Especially relics from evil supervillains that have a vendetta against, of all people, Stephen Strange. Seriously, it’s like you’ve learned nothing from me.”

Peter groaned. “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah, kid. It was that bad.” Tony gripped his hand, looking down at the kid almost pleadingly. "And I can't even blame you for it. I shouldn't have let you go outin  _spandex_ fighting damn _wizards_ _._ “

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Blaming yourself for something stupid." Peter knit his brows disapprovingly. "It was dumb, yeah, but I'm not  _dead."_

"You will be after Bruce lets you out of bed and I'm finally free to ground you for eternity.”

“Ha, ha.” The kid squeezed Tony’s hand, rolling his eyes playfully, and then moved to sit up.

Except -

“Um….” Peter gestured to their hands, which seemed welded together like metal. “Are you….gonna let go?”

“I can’t,” Tony muttered incredulously, trying to jerk his fingers away from Peter’s. Instead of releasing his grip, he just sent the kid flying over the cot towards him. 

“Ow. What the hell?” Peter yanked at his hand, but it wouldn’t budge. The two were, quite literally, stuck together.

“Uh….Bruce?” Tony yanked harder, to no avail. “BRUCE!” 

“What? What happened?” Bruce shot nervously into the lab, his eyes widening when he saw the two. “Are you guys….holding hands?”

“We’re stuck,” Peter said miserably. “I don’t know how it happened.”

A cold wave washed over Tony, and he groaned. “Ah, shit, kid. One of your powers is the ability to stick to everything, right?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Remember what Mordo said about the amulet? How it could amplify your powers to a completely unnecessary extreme?” Peter raised a brow. “Well, apparently when you touched the amulet, it did its whole magic show on you. And….I think it magnified…. _all_ your powers. Even this.” Tony raised their hands up, shaking his head.

“Oh, no.” Peter started struggling harder. “I….I can’t control it.”

“Yeah, that’s what we thought would happen,” Tony sighed. In the corner of his eye, he could see Bruce doubling over, wheezing. “Stop laughing, Banner.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just -” Bruce fought through another burst of cackling. “It turns out everyone was free today. We’re supposed to have dinner in an hour with the rest of the group.”

Oh, shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO excited to post this! It was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but I decided to split it instead of just creating one mega-long chapter. I've been planning this project for the past two months now, but it was put on hold for a bit because I was traveling. Thankfully, I'm back now and working through the jet-lag :) 
> 
> I have so many fic ideas, and not writing for so long has made me want to just lock myself in a room for a day and put out like 20 fics for you guys, haha. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Stay tuned for the next one, and let me know what you think down below!


	2. Chapter 2

“This is it. We’re done for,” Peter moaned, looking like he wanted to jump off a cliff. Honestly, Tony couldn’t agree more.

 

“Well, we have an hour to figure out how to neutralize Peter’s, erm, stickiness, and get you two separated.” Bruce was already writing something down on a notepad, a badly-suppressed grin beaming on his face. “On the bright side, even if we can’t figure out a cure, you two being forced to hold hands in front of all the Avengers will at least be funny.”

 

“For you.” Peter moved to bury his face in his hands before stopping himself, eyes wide. “Does this mean I can’t touch anything? Like, at all?”

 

“Better not risk it.” Tony grimaced. “And try to keep yourself from swinging your arms too much. You tend to do that alot, kid, and with your super strength amplified, I’m pretty sure you could rip my arm off if you swing too hard.”

 

“Oh. No pressure, then.”

 

“Okay.” Bruce picked up his phone. “I’m calling Strange. We’ll see if he has a spell to get rid of whatever the amulet did to you.”

 

“And if he doesn’t?”

 

“Well….” Bruce smiled. “Let’s just hope he does.”

 

* * *

 

"Yeah, there’s no spell for this,” Strange deadpanned, his eyes glued to the two intertwined hands. Tony groaned. 

 

“There’s really nothing you can do? The Avengers are coming in 30 minutes, and I really don’t want to have to walk out like….this.”

 

“Okay, I’m not _that_ bad.” Peter frowned.

 

“You know I love you, kid. I just don’t want Clint teasing me for the rest of my life.”

 

“Yeah, well, it’s looking that way,” Strange said, shrugging. “The amulet was locked up in my compound for a reason, Stark. Its powers are too strong for even me to negate. I’m sorry, truly.”

 

“Do you at least know how long we’ll be stuck like this?”

 

“I really can’t know for sure.” Strange plopped down on a stuffed armchair near Peter’s cot, shaking his head incredulously. “Honestly, nothing like this has ever happened before. Usually the effects are supposed to wear off immediately like they did with Mordo, but since Peter doesn’t practice the mystic arts, he should be more susceptible to its effects. My guess is at least two days.”

 

“How the hell are we supposed to be stuck together for two days?”

 

“This has _got_ to be a Guinness World Record,” Bruce cackled. “Longest hand-hold on Earth.” 

 

Tony shot him a death glare. "Don't push it."

 

“Okay.” Bruce held his hands up in surrender. “For now, let’s just find a way to get through this dinner.”

 

“Can’t you just cancel it?” Peter whined.

 

“We’ve got 15 minutes until it starts, so no.”

 

“Well, I hope you two figure it out. I’ve got more pressing matters to attend to.” Before Tony could even think to stop him, Strange disappeared through yet another glowing portal, leaving the other three scratching their heads in his absence.

 

That bastard.

 

“Okay.” Bruce sighed. “Tony, you and Peter can just sit next to each other for the whole dinner. I’ll try to keep everyone else distracted. As long as you hide your hands under the table, no one will suspect anything.”

 

“Hopefully,” Peter mumbled.

 

“Hopefully,” Bruce agreed. 

 

* * *

 

Tony had never been a fan of team dinners, even without the whole being-welded-to-Peter-Parker situation. He knew Steve loved them, Bruce even more so, which meant he’d had to endure plenty of dinners throughout his years with the Avengers. And sure, he enjoyed being with the team, but the dynamic had changed over the years. With the introduction of Bucky, his relationship with the others was becoming strained.

 

And the team was still at odds about letting Peter on missions, no matter how much the kid protested that he was ready. Steve, of course, was adamant about making sure he didn’t move too fast, and the soldier had been noticeably more stressed since Peter started handling tougher missions with them. That, though, Tony understood.

 

But he knew the drill with team dinners. Sit down, shut up, let everyone enjoy their food and see them out. He could endure another one.

 

The table was set when Tony and Peter emerged from the elevator; Bruce and Pepper must’ve done it while they were getting ready. Candles littered the kitchen, and the house smelled like warm lavender (Pepper’s choice, definitely). Wanda was already flitting around the kitchen, using her powers to plate a plump rosemary chicken. 

 

“You two have gotten yourselves into quite a situation,” She said without so much as a glance at the two as they seated themselves at the table.

 

Tony groaned inwardly. Damn mind reading powers.

 

“You could say it’s a…. _sticky_ situation.” Peter elbowed Tony, a stupid grin plastered on his face. The billionaire didn’t return the favor.

 

“If you want, I could try using my powers to force them apart,” Wanda offered. 

 

To be fair, it wasn’t a bad idea at all. Despite being one of the youngest of the Avengers, Wanda’s powers had grown considerably over the past few years. She could control herself better now, and if anyone was strong enough to overcome Peter’s enhanced powers, it was her.

 

So, curtly, he said, “Go for it.”

 

Big mistake. 

 

The first thing he felt was pain pain _pain_ \- rolling through his palms like waves, like a knife was tearing through his skin, wrenching it backwards and away from Peter’s. He was white-hot blind, shaking, and distantly he could hear Peter cry out.

 

The pain receded immediately. 

 

“Oh, god. I think I used a bit too much power.”

 

“You think?” Tony managed to squeak, squeezing his eyes shut against the lingering ache in his fingers - fingers which, unfortunately, were still welded tightly to Peter’s. Well, shit.

 

“I can try again if you’d like, with less pressure this time.”

 

“NO!” Peter and Tony screamed in unison, shaking their heads vigorously. “One…. one time’s enough, thanks.”

 

The two hadn’t even managed to blink the spots out of their vision before FRIDAY began announcing the arrival of the rest of the Avengers. Wanda squeaked as Vision floated into the kitchen, abandoning Peter and Tony to throw her arms around his neck.

 

Steve and Bucky came together, with Natasha, Clint, and Sam lagging behind, deep in conversation. 

 

Bruce and Rhodey were the last to trickle in, since they had already been lounging in the lab together and had lost track of time, so they said. Thor, of course, was on Asgard wrapping up business with a warrior he called “Valkyrie,” so he was noticeably absent from the table. But, Tony realized, everyone else was there.

 

“Good to see you, Tony,” Steve said, holding his left arm out for a handshake. _Shit._ Tony’s right hand was the one welded to Peter’s, and he couldn’t properly shake Steve’s hand without lifting it and exposing Peter’s, too.

 

It seemed like the kid had realized that at the same time. His face was pale, and he looked back and forth awkwardly between Tony and Steve as the soldier’s arm floated there, for far too long, before Tony got up and tackled Steve for a one-armed hug instead, keeping his right hand under the table.

 

“Oh!” Steve cleared his throat. “Um… guess you’re feeling, uh… affectionate today?”

 

“Shut up,” Tony said miserably. Peter was snickering behind him, and he made a mental note to eat their last box of the kid’s favorite cereal in the morning. 

 

“Right.” Bruce clapped his hands together. “Wanda and Vision are bringing out the chicken.” The doctor sat down at the far end of the table across from Peter and Tony to keep the attention as far away from the duo as possible. The rest of the Avengers began seating themselves, with Steve on Tony’s left and Natasha on Peter’s right. They were surrounded. 

 

It hit Tony, then, how long it had been since he'd seen them all together. Movie nights and team dinners and talks on warm afternoons after training at the compound. He, for god's sake, missed it. He missed Steve's smile and his outdated humor. Clint's bickering. Natasha's quiet amusement. 

 

And it was in that moment that he realized they'd never really be the same. History could be erased from everything except the mind, and conflict never ceased to leave scars. His chest tightened. They'd never have that again, no matter how many team dinners and movie nights and talks Steve forced everyone into. Nothing would ever be left untouched, even the best of their memories.

  
Tony felt Peter's hand wrap tighter around his, squeezing it gently under the table. Tony flashed him a grateful smile and squeezed back, letting his shoulders relax as best as he could. 

 

Grounded. Peter was grounded, all roots and warmth and comforting care, flitting around Tony with quiet worry and excited chatter and always, always there. Maybe in a few years the team would be gone, lost to the clutches of time and space and whatever the damn universe wished on them. But Peter had always been there, would always be there. Hell, he'd even managed to glue himself to Tony. 

 

Steve's voice pulled him back into the present, drawing some anecdote about a mission with Bucky gone wrong. The conversation was slow at first, with everyone throwing out the usual “How are you doing?” and “How’s everything going?”

 

Tony was fine. He could handle that. The real problem, he soon realized, wasn’t the conversation - it was eating.

 

Tony, unfortunately, was right-handed, but with his right hand stuck to Peter’s under the table, he had no choice but to clumsily scrape up pieces of chicken with his fork in his left. His hands shook slightly as he spooned bit by bit into his mouth, eyes focusing solely on his plate, not daring to see if anyone had noticed. 

 

Peter, however, seemed to be enjoying himself. His right hand was free, his food was warm, and the conversation was flowing nicely. The dinner shifted; after not meeting up together for months, everyone was back again, and the old dynamics were starting to show themselves.

 

“So, Peter, what have you been up to this summer?” Bucky asked gently. The kid lit up immediately.

 

“Oh, gosh - so Ned and I got this _awesome_ Millenium Falcon lego set from his aunt. We've been waiting to meet up and set it up for a while, but Ned and I are both just swamped with decathlon practice and MJ keeps breathing down my neck about getting ready before the school year starts - I think she's on the verge of a stroke at this point - and I've got patrols all week and May's working at the hospital all the time and doesn't want us hanging out anymore without her at home - last year we might've accidentally set a few textbooks on fire - and oh my gosh, the other day I stopped this mugger dude and he was like,  _huge_ , and I took him down in like three seconds, and it was  _awesome_ , oh my gosh -"

 

"Looks like you've had an eventful summer, kiddo," Bucky chuckled. Tony, without thinking, tightened his grip on Peter's hand.

 

The dinner was slowly descending into the usual dynamics. Sam and Bucky continued to fight, as usual, over everything from table space to the political state of America. Vision fed Wanda a strip of chicken. Bruce and Rhodey cheered as Clint arm-wrestled Natasha, with the former losing miserably.

 

Everything was going well, that is, until dinner ended, and Sam suggested everyone gather round to watch Independence Day. Right. Tony had forgotten that Bruce called everyone over initially for a movie night, not just a dinner. At least he and Peter could just sit through it silently, hiding their hands beneath the cushions or a blanket. They’d figure it out.

 

Tony moved to sit up, but he stopped suddenly when Peter squeezed his hand, eyes wide.

 

“What’s up, kid?” He whispered. Peter gulped.

 

“I, uh, can’t let go of my fork?”

 

This kid would be the death of him.

 

“What the hell do you mean, you can’t let go of your fork?”

 

“I forgot that I’m not allowed to touch anything!” Peter exclaimed defensively. “How else was I supposed to eat my chicken?”

 

Tony craned his neck to look. Sure enough, the fork was stuck stubbornly onto Peter’s fingers, refusing to budge even as he shook his hand vigorously.

 

“Ok.” Tony sighed. “You know what, let’s just tell them. There’s no getting out of this one.”

 

“Tell us what?” Steve was suddenly right in front of him, and Tony raised a brow, realizing that the others were already in the living room and staring back at the duo, the only ones who hadn’t moved since Sam had called them all over.

 

“Um…” Peter looked up at Tony. “We, uh…”

 

“Tony, I swear, if you’ve been hiding something from us….” Steve’s voice was calm, but Tony could detect the edge in his words. “We’ve talked about this.”

 

“Right.” Tony moved to clap his hands together, pausing with a wince when the movement nearly sent Peter careening over the table. “Uh, you’re up, kid.”

 

Peter’s head snapped back. “What? Why do I have to do it?”

 

“Who’s the adult here?”

 

“How does that apply, like, in any way?”

 

“Up and at ‘em, Spiderling. We don’t have all day.” Tony held the teen’s flaring gaze, bemused. The idea of one-handedly strangling the billionaire (or, even better, strangling him with his own hand attached and flailing dramatically in between), as implausible as it was, undoubtedly flashed through Peter’s mind at least once.

 

Steve glanced awkwardly between the two, looking about as helpless as a 6-foot tall jacked golden boy could look. “Er, what’s going on?”

 

Peter sighed, voice dripping in defeat. “It’s… kind of a long story.”

 

He cast a nervous glance at Tony. Swallowed. 

 

And then there it was - the kid dragged his left hand up from beneath the table, pulling Tony’s along for the ride, and let the two dangle in the air for all to gape at, wide-eyed. “We’re, uh… we’re stuck. Together. For the next two days.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. This story's getting an extra chapter because I just can't resist (up next: Tony suffers through an unbearable Stark Industries meeting with a new 'intern' at his side).
> 
> Also, high school is terrible and I'm sorry for crying more over my physics class than actually writing. Thank you for being patient <3


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